


Before I Was Born

by LaceKyoko1138



Series: Mokuba the Depressed Millennial [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Canon - Manga, Family Feels, Gen, Headcanon, Mentions of Ainu, Mentions of Racism, Mild Blood, Old Work Turns New, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Orphans, Past Child Abuse, Prequel, Reminiscing, Revised Version, Suicide Attempt, also this is a mess, but i tried????, happy early birthday seto your baby brother just attempted suicide, honestly i've been meaning to write this and it just coincided with seto's bday whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 01:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16399226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceKyoko1138/pseuds/LaceKyoko1138
Summary: Mokuba digs through an archive and reminisces on a time before he existed. Convinced that Seto's life was better without him, he seeks to end it all. This is a revised version of a fanfic posted originally on 2/2/2009 on fanfiction.net.





	Before I Was Born

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! If you've read [After I Had Lived ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15617379), then you'll be pleased to know that this is the prequel of that! This work was originally on ffnet in 2009 (as says the summary), and I decided I wanted to redo it. I felt the writing was very weak in the original and there were cultural references that didn't make sense as this story takes place in Japan, yet I had them celebrate American holidays. I was naive and without a decent internet connection at the time. Now, I'm a bit more learned, still without a decent internet connection, but I can at least research on my phone, so I hope this piece works out.
> 
> I headcanon that the brothers are part Ainu, so there's a small bit about that in relation to racism in Japan. Some things were looked up, others based off personal knowledge or experience. If something seems off, as always, let me know, and I'll do my best to fix it.
> 
> The time period isn't really referenced much, but I use the manga canon in these typically, so think early 2000s. (I'll probably have to fix this in AIHL but I'm pretty sure it's fairly consistent.) According to what I have learned of schooling in Japan, if Seto is in the same class as Yugi, that means both are 16 (first year high school students are 16, not 15 like in America), making Kaiba born in 1980, since the manga was first published in 1996. (I honestly wish Takahashi would just give us concrete birth years and time periods but nah everything is just kinda thrown together lmao, at least we have actual birth dates!) So anyway, Kaiba is a Gen X? Interesting. This makes Mokuba a Millennial and I'm for it.
> 
> When I wrote the original piece, I was in a dark place. Now, writing the revised version, I'm still in a dark place, but at least I can laugh about it now. Aging while you're depressed gives you a dark humor I've come to find out.
> 
> This is also my 20th fic on this site. Huzzah!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Before he was born, life was great.

His brother Seto actually slept. He worked hard and made excellent grades. He could focus on the people around him, not business models and rising stock and proposals. Seto loved his parents, or so the younger learned. And his parents, _their_ parents, loved him. They would play games together, something Seto had grown to love. He had always strived to do his best in whatever task was in front of him, and usually he succeeded. Seto knew nothing of survival skills. He was a happy child with two parents who cared for him.

Then Mokuba was born.

Their mother had gotten sick after giving birth to Seto. It wasn’t something Seto spoke of often. Gestational diabetes, hematomas… Mokuba could only hypothesize what had happened. Their mother’s body had been too fragile to really be able to hold a viable pregnancy, but she had done it. Doctors had advised against her having another child, and for a few years, she didn’t plan on it. But accidents happen. Nights of passion are rife with consequences.

For the first five years of his life, Seto was raised to be the best son anyone could ask for, and he delivered. The family of three may have been small, but holidays had always been special, full of good food and warmth. It was a blessed life.

Sometime before Christmas, their mother found out she was pregnant. Of course, the doctors had advised against keeping the baby. But the mother was uncomfortable, and wasn’t sure if she’d be able to live with the regret. Uncertainty, in many of these cases, is what causes this regret, and unless she was absolutely going to die, she wasn’t in favor of it. So the doctors put her on a strict regimen of regular checkups. She made sure to do as little physical activity as possible. This changed a few things in their household, as Seto found he was doing more chores than usual, but if it meant his mother would be able to deliver a happy, healthy baby, then he was fine with it.

She had made it to the final trimester, the eight month actually, but she had started bleeding. Fearing the worst, she went to the hospital, her husband speeding the small car through the pitch black night towards the hospital. Little Seto was woken up and trying to keep his mother calm in the back.

Hours later, the baby was delivered in the hospital, Seto waiting with bated breath outside the delivery ward. His father had come out of the delivery room, a face full of mixed emotions.

“Is the baby okay?” Seto asked.

“Yes son. Your little brother is fine,” his father smiled, though it did not reach his eyes.

Seto sensed something was wrong. “What about Kaa-san?”

His father crumpled to the ground, wailing like the infant he now had. Seto had never seen his father exude such emotional strife.

Seto knew then that his mother didn’t make it. He overheard them talking late in the night about the risks of the pregnancy, and although her pregnancy seemed to go on without a hitch, anything could happen. It seemed the worst had.

“I’ll protect him,” Seto whispered, holding on to his father.

“What, Seto?” his father asked through sniffles.

“I’ll protect my little brother, for Kaa-san. It’s what she would want.”

In that moment, their father couldn’t have been prouder.

A few days later, little Mokuba was brought home. It had been difficult, as the father had to work to support his two children, but luckily there was a neighbor who was available to watch the small infant. Seto also did his best to care for the little boy.

Years had passed. Mokuba was now three, Seto eight. Their father? Dead. Some factory accident that shouldn’t have happened. It left the two boys orphaned and on their aunt’s doorstep. There was a small inheritance, but somehow, the aunt and her greedy husband spent it all for their own benefit. By the time Seto had reached ten years of age, Mokuba five, the two boys had been dropped off at an orphanage outside of Domino City. There was no love lost; Seto had never been fond of his aunt and her husband. Mokuba knew no better.

But being bereft of parents and any other family left Seto bitter. He loved his little brother, but anyone who came too close was Public Enemy Number One. It didn’t help that the smaller boy was also constantly bullied. Children were cruel, but Seto knew firsthand that life itself was cruel, so he fought back with a ferocity that the caretakers and other orphans were a bit disturbed by. All in all, Seto was a pleasant boy, very smart, very kind to his brother, but he didn’t take quickly to strangers.

Potential adopters would come to the orphanage and would see Seto’s record. They loved that he did so well in school. He showed athletic prowess too. He was overall an ideal child. But when it came to meet him, they realized that in order to take him, they’d have to take his brother too. For whatever reason, no one seemed to want poor Mokuba, a child who looked unkempt and unruly, yet was actually the absolute sweetest thing. Perhaps the adults sensed some weakness about him. Perhaps they just thought he looked odd. His skin was darker than his brother’s, a testament that he enjoyed sunshine, or perhaps wasn’t pure of blood. Seto knew his mother was Ainu, her father from the Russian tribe and her mother from the Japanese, yet she rarely talked about her heritage. Something about how she wouldn’t be accepted if the general public knew. Mokuba took after the mother, and perhaps these adults could tell.

“We don’t want a _hāfu_ ,” they would say. The caretakers would say that the boys were absolutely not half-Japanese, they were completely full, but the potential adopters didn’t believe them. Regardless of how ancestry worked, Seto had always considered himself to be completely Japanese. Mokuba did too, but he didn’t know any better. He never heard his mother mention their Ainu heritage. And regardless of what anyone actually knew, Ainu were still Japanese, so perhaps in the greater scheme of things, they were absolutely full Japanese.

But people are picky and so they picked another child and left the two brothers alone.

It was a few months before fate seemed to favor the boys.

A man by the name of Gozaburo Kaiba had come to the orphanage. Publicity stunt was his most likely reason, but there was talk that he was hoping to adopt an heir. Seto knew a little about this man. He was rich beyond compare. He was also a champion at chess. Seto was too and challenged Gozaburo to a game. Gozaburo had scoffed, but Seto was persistent. Insistent even. Gozaburo didn’t back down.

Seto had won. But Mokuba knew enough about chess that he caught the way Seto was playing. It wasn’t fair. But Mokuba had no words for it. He couldn’t claim his brother had cheated, not when said brother was trying so desperately to get them out of that hellhole.

What Seto didn’t know was that there was an entire new definition of hellhole, and he would come to know it.

Gozaburo, impressed that this eleven-year-old was ballsy enough to challenge and _win_ , saw the hunger in this young boy’s eyes. He adopted both of them, knowing that he could easily use the younger as leverage over the older. Gozaburo seized that opportunity, the two boys unaware that they were about to know hell.

When the boys had moved into the mansion, very western in its design, they were soon separated. Mokuba would come to know the horrors Seto underwent to become the heir, but at the time, he was scared and confused. Seto seemed to have disappeared, only appearing at dinnertime, exhaustion etched into his face.

The boys had ways of communicating with each other, sneaking things to the other without the rest of the household knowing. Through these small interactions, Mokuba had come to find out that Seto was being abused, but he was powerless to stop it. Seto was worked to the bone because he was trying to keep Mokuba away from the torture he experienced. Seto didn’t say it in as many words, but Mokuba was smart enough to figure out that something was very wrong.

A change had slowly overcome his brother in the years before he took over Kaiba Corporation. Seto no longer smiled. He seemed focused on something that Mokuba couldn’t quite see.

And when Gozaburo had jumped to his death? Mokuba was surprised to hear it, but he wasn’t saddened by the news. He put on an act, because it would be odd for him not to be ‘mourning,’ but in reality? A part of him was relieved. Maybe Seto would be normal again.

But Seto seemed to be obsessed with gaining more power. Before, he had nothing. Now, he had everything. Mokuba knew his brother had done illegal acts, and he wasn’t happy knowing it. This knowledge changed something in Mokuba, and the boy seemed to feel more and more dejected and alone, gathering up followers who only liked him because of his last name.

Mokuba didn’t even remember his former surname. He wondered if Seto did.

But Seto didn’t seem to wallow in his past, only striving for the future. It hurt Mokuba. He felt like he was being forgotten.

Years passed. Seto was defeated by someone named Yugi Mutou in his favorite game. There were talks that the older Kaiba brother was losing his mind, working on some forbidden game, something never done before. Mokuba vied for Seto’s attention through his own means: trying to beat Yugi at Capsule Monsters. Mokuba…seemed to have met a similar fate.

Mokuba would never be as good as his brother, now, would he? If _Seto Kaiba_ , a gaming prodigy, couldn’t defeat his own classmate at a card game, what hope did Mokuba have, just being a grade schooler? Yes, Seto had beaten a grown man at his favorite game, but perhaps the Kaiba empire of gaming prowess was finally starting to topple.

Things like that shattered parts of Mokuba. He began to feel more vulnerable, more desperate to protect what was left of his brother’s innocence, if there was any.

But struggling to protect something that was nonexistent for so long exhausts the mind and the heart. When Mokuba had finally reached high school, he felt like he could no longer smile.

There was a project in one of his classes at Domino High, the same school his older brother dropped out of, that wanted to promote family history. The class would be required to seek out the library’s archive so the students could learn as much as they could about their own pasts. Some students were bored by this; but this piqued Mokuba’s curiosity. He knew very little of his life before becoming a Kaiba.

Most didn’t seem to register that Mokuba was adopted, that Seto was adopted, that the boys had lives before becoming Kaibas on paper. Mokuba realized that this was an opportunity to perhaps learn of _something_ , to perhaps remember a happier time.

The problem was he didn’t remember his surname. It was an odd thing to forget, but the trauma he had gone through connected to that name perhaps forced his mind to repress it.

He was afraid to ask Seto. Seto didn’t enjoy reminiscing. He would probably scoff at that project. What use was the past when one had only the future to look forward to? It was flawed thinking, truly, but Mokuba knew his brother. Asking him was out of the question.

Mokuba knew that somewhere in the mansion were files from the orphanage. That sort of paperwork was something Gozaburo would absolutely keep. What if he wanted to give the boys up at some point? It wasn’t likely, but it was something Gozaburo would keep in order to keep the boys under his thumb. Of course, Seto could have destroyed it, but Mokuba knew there were places in the mansion that even Seto didn’t explore. For someone who claimed he worked towards the future, he sure didn’t seem to care about updating the house. Why they still lived there was beyond Mokuba’s understanding. Seto stayed at the office most days, or in his labs, constantly working. Maybe one day he’d have the mansion mowed down and erect a more modern house, but the idea didn’t seem likely currently. Seto was obsessed with linking his mind into his hologram projections.

Mokuba found an unassuming room that had several filing cabinets in it. He approached them, looking at the labels on each drawer. A lot of old Kaiba Corp business that was probably irrelevant now, but perhaps had some uses. His eyes scanned until he found a drawer labelled ‘Heirs,’ which _totally_ wasn’t ominous, and Mokuba opened it. There were manila folders containing many documents, and he thumbed through them until he found one labelled ‘Orphanage Paperwork,’

It truly shouldn’t have been this easy, but Mokuba found the exact documents Gozaburo had signed, granting him guardianship of the two brothers. There, all their prior information was in black and white. Mokuba slid the documents in his backpack, shut the file cabinet, and left the room, closing the door quietly. Seto would probably never know.

Mokuba had Isono drive him to the library at the university so he could look in their archives and see if they had any information regarding his ancestry. From what he saw on the document, they weren’t originally from Domino, but rather some small town on the outskirts of the city limits.

Mokuba entered the library and asked the librarian about family archives and she led him to a room where he would have to look through various books, newspaper clippings, and the like to find anything regarding his family.

It took about an hour before he found an article that reported a factory accident that occurred in that town, killing several men. Mokuba looked at the document from the orphanage he kept in his backpack and compared the names. His father was one of the victims. Next to this clipping were the obituaries, pictures of the men posted. For the first time in several years, Mokuba saw his father’s face. The picture was poor quality, but it was a clipping from the late 80s so Mokuba couldn’t expect much, but he was able to more clearly picture his father in his head. He had been so young when he had died…

Suddenly chilled, Mokuba kept the article and obituary to the side so he could make a copy. Further prodding of the newspaper clippings helped him find his mother’s obituary. It somehow made news in Domino, perhaps because of how tragic it was. It stated that ‘birthing complications’ were her cause of death, but otherwise Mokuba still didn’t know what exactly had killed his mother. He kept that to the side too, staring for a long time at the picture of his mother. He really did take after her. Knowing their names and causes of deaths now, he wondered if he could use the research database on the network of computers to further delve into his family history.

He did so, but he found very little. There was a blurb on his mother’s Ainu heritage, but otherwise, they were a normal Japanese couple.

It was depressing, ultimately. He was born to a middle-class factory worker and a homemaker, his birth taking her life. Three years later, that very factory took his father’s life. He was forced to live with relatives, that much he did remember, but Mokuba didn’t want to look into that. The obituary had stated the names of the relatives that Mokuba and Seto had lived with, but this was just enough information for now. Mokuba didn’t want to delve into the past anymore. He finally could see why his brother was so opposed to doing just that. There was nothing he could do. He was powerless.

But as he was driven home, copies of the newspaper articles in his backpack, Mokuba felt a certain kind of hopelessness. He felt that somehow, all of this tragedy was his fault. His parents were probably happy with their perfect Seto. The images he concocted in his head were of a happy family of three. And then the fourth member came along, bringing tragedy. There was a reason why the number four was seen as bad luck in Japanese superstition. It only seemed to lead to death.

Mokuba had made it home and Isono opened the door for the boy. Mokuba got out, thanked the bodyguard, and entered the mansion. He went upstairs and into his room.

There was something that was little known about Mokuba. He quite enjoyed art. While his older brother was quite capable of design and technical drawing, and in fact was quite good at it, Mokuba preferred character design and even symbolic images. He had an appreciation for creativity that Seto didn’t always have. Had things gone differently, Mokuba often wondered if Pegasus would have asked him to join the monster design team at I2, but he doubted Seto would have ever allowed him. However, Pegasus had proven to be crazy, and had unfortunately met his end. Kaiba Corporation had seized control immediately. Sort of ironic, considering Pegasus wanted Kaiba Corp for himself, and perhaps it was hypocritical, but only the gods themselves could have stopped Seto from the corporate takeover. No one was surprised. Seto wanted to own Duel Monsters? He could have it.

That aside, Mokuba looked through his various sketchbooks, noting that over the years, he did actually improve, but his pieces were considerably depressing. Horrific in some cases. All were morbid. He knew that his mental health probably wasn’t in the best state, but he had no one to go to. Mokuba felt like he had few actual friends. Yugi and his group were older, and while accepting of him, they were seen as Seto’s enemies, so Mokuba felt reluctant to go to them for anything important.

It was then that he realized he was all alone. Other than Seto, Mokuba had very few human ties to this world.

He had…considered killing himself for quite some time now. It wasn’t a whim. It wasn’t a passing thought. It was something that was brewing, bubbling in his psyche. He had felt the need to die for some time now, but there wasn’t a word for it. But the call of the void was getting louder and more persistent and Mokuba knew he could no longer resist.

Mokuba began writing a note in one of the pages of his sketchbook. He was shaking as he wrote it. He was disturbed he was being pushed this far. But his entire life was filled with death and the only way for it to go away was to end it.

He read over the note a few times and tore it carefully out of his sketchbook. He walked to his brother’s room, still vacant, still neat, as if no one lived there, and he placed it on his brother’s pillow.

Would Seto even see it? He wasn’t quite sure.

He left the mansion that afternoon, knowing where he needed to go.

It took a bus ride to get there, but Mokuba knew it was the right thing to do.

The orphanage from long ago had been abandoned and shut down. The gates were padlocked, but Mokuba was spry enough to shimmy up the gate and jump down. He walked sullenly to the old swing set he and his brother used to play on. The chains were rusty. The rubber seating looked like it could disintegrate from dry rot at any moment, but it held his weight.

Mokuba had a knife. It was the same knife he was going to use to cut off Yugi’s finger in that fated game of Capmon when he was just a grade schooler. It would be the knife that took his life.

He held the knife to his wrist, knowing there was a way to do this if he actually wanted to die. He was nervous. But he knew that he had to do this. Seto was better off without him. Seto was never home. Seto wouldn’t have cared. Would he…? Long ago, when things had calmed, it was like the brothers were inseparable, but no matter what, there was some rift. Mokuba knew he could never close the gap, and with that thought in mind, he slashed his wrist.

 

* * *

 

 

Seto had felt a disturbance. Something was not quite right that day. He wasn’t entirely sure, but he felt the sudden need to go home. He had been working nonstop on new dueling technology, and when he found a moment to pause, he realized he hadn’t eaten dinner with Mokuba for the past week.

Very negligent of him, but the kid was used to his AWOL brother. Seto was always working on projects it seemed, as well as other business agendas, but he always made sure to…

When _did_ he last make time for Mokuba?

Realizing that it had been a _long_ time since he actually made plans with Mokuba, he decided for once he would come home at a reasonable time. He checked the time. Mokuba would just be getting home from school. Perhaps they could eat dinner and enjoy a game or two. Mokuba still played Capmon, right? Seto did a mental check. The kid was a first year at Domino High. No, he probably grew out of Capmon, but many said the same of Seto and his obsession with Duel Monsters. He was 21 now, and still liked the game. In fact, his business revolved around it.

Seto told his secretary he was leaving early and that any calls, unless absolutely important, were to leave a message. He’d get back to them.

Seto had taken to driving himself, his loner tendencies taking over. Besides, Mokuba was in more dire need of a ride than he was, so Isono drove Mokuba wherever he needed to go. Seto got in his expensive, luxury car and sped off.

The gate of the property opened when he pressed a button on the remote access and he parked in the large garage. He exited the vehicle and entered his home.

The air was still. It was quiet. He didn’t hear any sounds from the staff, but then again, he was never home so early. He walked up the stairs and went towards Mokuba’s room first.

“Mokuba? I’m home.” He knocked on the door. No answer. He tried the knob and it opened. Mokuba’s room was empty however.

Perplexed, he shut the door to Mokuba’s room and went inside his own. It was virtually untouched, save for a sheet of paper on his pillow.

Seto set aside his briefcase and walked towards his bed. He picked the paper up. Mokuba’s familiar scrawl was on it in a black ink.

_Seto, if you’re reading this, then it’s probably too late._

Seto felt his blood chill.

_I want you to know I love you very much. A lot has been going on in my head and I can’t ignore it anymore. I found out about our parents, or at least what happened to them. I’ve seen their pictures. I read their obituaries. I know everything and it’s all too much. I can’t bear it anymore. I feel so very alone. What’s the point in having wealth if I can’t have my own brother? You work so often it’s like I barely know you. Like you barely know me. I do love you though. I always will._

_I know this isn’t something you want to read, but you’ll find my body by the swing set of the orphanage we used to live in. I’m so sorry, Seto. But please know, you were always better off without me._

_Your little brother, Mokuba_

Seto never knew heartbreak before, but he did now. This wasn’t like the times his brother had been kidnapped. Seto had faith in his own abilities, and as long as Mokuba was alive, nothing could stop him from tearing apart the monsters that tried to hurt his little brother.

The only thing that could stop him would be his brother’s death.

Maybe Mokuba didn’t quite understand it, but Seto lived for Mokuba. Seto was sure he had always told him that. Maybe he didn’t make it clear enough.

Shaking, he pocketed the suicide letter and immediately left the premises.

Seto knew where the orphanage was. Even if he wanted to forget it, he never could. He called Isono, demanding why the hell he allowed Mokuba to leave the premises at all.

_“Master Seto, I was unaware Master Mokuba left! I dropped him off at the Kaiba Mansion after we left the library for a school project he was doing. I’ve been doing the regular security check ever since.”_

“Mokuba somehow left from right under your nose then. He’s sneaky. Even I know that.”

_“My apologies, Master Seto. Do you know his whereabouts? I can secure a team to-”_

“That will be unnecessary but alert the medical team. Mokuba’s life is in danger.”

_“Yes sir!”_

It was very unlikely for Isono to be so negligent, but Mokuba rarely caused trouble for the old man. Mokuba knew how to bypass the security protocols. He knew how to leave the mansion without alerting the system. Seto wouldn’t fault Isono for that. Right now, he was just a scapegoat for Seto’s worry.

It felt like an eternity driving towards the old Domino City Orphanage, but Seto had made it. He was surprised he hadn’t alerted the police patrolling the area. Surely their radar had detected a speeding vehicle, but Seto would count his blessings later. Right now, he had a brother to save.

The gate was locked. He knew Mokuba must have climbed the gate. However, it was rusted, as were the chains, so perhaps with the right amount of force…

Maybe he was crazy, maybe he was desperate, but Seto got into his car, and rammed it through the gate. The gate fell apart, the car made it through, although there was considerable damage to the front end. The airbags didn’t deploy though, and Seto would have to alert the dealership that his car was faulty. He didn’t care though. Was it still drivable? Yes. He could get his brother back to the medical team then.

Seto got out of the car and ran towards the swing set, where a small body was laying. A small pool of blood was under the arm of a half-dead Mokuba, a bloodied knife in his other hand.

“Mokuba!” Seto cried out, kneeling by his brother’s side. Was there some sort of first aid he should apply to his brother? He had never felt so helpless before.

Mokuba stirred, opening blurry eyes. He saw his brother

“Seto… You came…” he managed to whisper.

“Mokuba, save your strength. I’m getting you out of here.” Seto tore the sleeve of Mokuba’s school jacket, which was discarded next to him, and tied it tightly around the wounded arm like a tourniquet. Anything to stop the bleeding.

“It’s…too late…” Mokuba muttered weakly.

“As long as you’re still breathing, it’s not,” Seto said firmly. He scooped his brother up and carried him to the damaged car.

Mokuba was now lying in the back and Seto reversed out of the orphanage and sped to the Kaiba Mansion where the medical team was waiting.

 

* * *

 

 

It had taken some time to get the full story out of Mokuba, but Seto and an appointed therapist were able to get him to explain what brought him to the conclusion that suicide was his only choice.

It was difficult to diagnose mental illness in adolescents, but a psychiatrist was able to confirm that Mokuba had suffered from a severe depression. She advised that Mokuba needed therapy, maybe even medication, for him to combat it.

So, Mokuba stayed in a private facility where he was being monitored. Seto visited every day. He knew that Mokuba felt like Seto would have been happier without him, but Seto insisted Mokuba was wrong.

“There’s something you don’t know, Mokuba, and it’s that I promised our birth father that I would protect you no matter what. It’s what our mother would have wanted.”

“Really?” Mokuba asked. “But… I killed her.”

“You did no such thing. Don’t ever blame yourself for something beyond your control. Our parents wanted you very much.”

Mokuba reluctantly agreed. “But if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have suffered under Gozaburo the way you had.”

Seto shrugged, the days of his abuse no longer affecting him. “It was to make a better life for us, Mokuba. Someone had to put that son of a bitch in his place.”

Mokuba sighed. “I just don’t think it was fair to you.”

“I’ve come to the conclusion that there is no such thing as fairness. You’re given life and you play by your own rules and get what you work for. Or what you don’t.”

Mokuba nodded. “I guess I was wrong after all.”

“For the suicide attempt? You felt like you had to escape. I’m not going to fault you for that. Life is hard, otouto.”

Seto never used that term and Mokuba felt a tug on his heart. “Thank you, Nii-sama.”

Seto looked away, the touching moment a bit much for him. “You know I love you.” Mokuba saw a blush creep on his older brother’s cheeks.

“I love you, too.”

“I’m not going to let anything get between us again. You’re my whole world, Mokuba.”

“I know.”

“So don’t forget that.”

“I won’t.”

And all was okay again.


End file.
